Everybody Gone Mad
by ImmaBeatYouWithaCrowbar
Summary: Max was young and determined, with her whole life ahead of her…until a doctor diagnosed her with schizophrenia. Now, at fourteen years of age, Max finds herself in a place she never thought she'd be: a mental institution. AU. ON HOLD.
1. Gone Mad

**A/N: Yeah…this idea came slightly out of the blue. It's my first AU story, and I rather liked the idea…plus I really got this song stuck in my head. Anyway, I know I shouldn't be starting on other stuff while U and A is still in progress…but…I couldn't help it. Gosh, I sound like a drug addict. Anyway, remember, criticism and reviews are always welcome!**

_Skin head, dead head,_

_Everybody gone bad._

_Situation, aggravation,_

_Everybody allegation._

_In the suite, on the news,_

_Everybody dog food._

_Bang, bang, shot dead,_

_Everybody gone mad._

Max's eyes were closed, the slight shake of the car slowly lulling her to sleep. Her pale forehead was pressed against the cold car window, and she opened her eyes slightly to watch the rain trickle down the other side of the window. She rubbed some of the fog awake, trying to keep herself away by focusing on her surroundings. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be seeing anything, though; they were in Death Valley's Badwater Basin, after all.

Huh. Such ironic names, for someone like her. _Death. Badwater._

And they had decided to put a mental institution in a place with a name so cheery?

_All I wanna say is that,_

_They don't really care about us._

_All I wanna say is that,_

_They don't really care about us._

She let her mind sink into the world or her Mp3, taking comfort in MJ's outraged voice. It always made her feel better that she wasn't the only one going crazy with indignation. **Or just plain going crazy.**

_Beat me, hate me,_

_You can never break me._

_Will me, thrill me,_

_You can never kill me…_

Her temporary solace in the song ended as that voice spoke into the back of her mind again. She closed her eyes again, no longer hearing the song. She pushed herself upright, ignoring the dull ache in her neck and shoulders as her hands raised to her temples. She began to massage them, willing the sudden throbbing and that unnatural presence to go away. As her fingers began to spin in circles, she wondered if anyone could tell that just beneath her fingers were damaged goods.

According to the psycho-whateveryoucallit, that was all her mind was, after all. Max bit her bottom lip, struggling to repress the memories. Despite it, she couldn't shake the image of the doctor's office out of her mind. There was the brown, leather couch with a cracked surface that she had been sitting on, anxiously picking at. There were the walls, half hazel wood, half off-white wallpaper. There were the dim, yellow lights coming from the lamps that lined the walls.

And there was that look on the doctor's face as he spoke to her mother in the corner of the room. That apathetic revulsion in those mud-brown orbs as he glanced at her through the corner of his eyes, the light glinting off his glasses. It was a look that told her what she had been fearing.

_Hate to break it to you, kid, but you've gone bonkers._

Max remembered the only words she had heard of the conversation. He had told Valencia, "I'm sorry," though his voice only said, "I'm a busy man, so get the hell out of my office and take your moping somewhere else. I've done what you paid me for. What else do you want from me?" And then, as Max expected he would do, he turned and left the room without a glance back.

Her mother had been silent the entire car ride home, and when they had finally walked into their living room, Max's younger sister had been waiting for them. Ella had sprung up from the couch, a worried look on her face. "So how did it go?" she asked Max, running up to her and taking her hands.

Max only stared at her.

Ella's eyes widened.

Their mother had ordered her to go up to her room. She tried to protested, but their mother cut in, _"Now!"_ Ella had hesitated, a helpless look on her face, then turned and trudged up the steps. Max expected that she would turn the corner and stop, straining her ears to listen to what was being said. Valencia must have thought this, too, because after they sat on the couch, she took Max's hands and spoke in a hushed voice.

_"Max, I'm not going to beat around the bush with you. The psychotherapist told me that you're schizophrenic."_

And only a few hours after that landmine, she had finally gotten off the phone and told Max, "That was your father. He has agreed that it's best that we get you some professional help. You know that he's one of the directors at the Itex Mental Institution in California-"

"You're sending me to a nut house?"

This was something that Max knew she would never forgive her parents for. She had become estranged from her father and hadn't exactly been on good terms with him ever since the divorce back when she had been twelve, so he didn't have much more room to drop on her I-Love-You meter. But Valencia…her own _mother!_ Even Ella had thrown a fit when she had found out about this, screaming, "How could you?" repeatedly.

And now, here Max was, stuck in the backseat of a car with two duffel bags filled with changes of clothes and all of her favorite personal items, with her father driving.

**And guess where you're going.**

Max tried to block out the voice, but it never worked. She refused to have anymore conversations with it, like she used to do. Instead, she chanted in her head, _It is a figment of my imagination. It is not real. It is a figment of my imagination. It is not real._

**See if that's gonna work, hon.**

Max opened her eyes, her hands dropping to her lap in defeat. She was helpless in this battle, so she needed comfort. She closed her eyes again, forcing herself to listen to the music. It had arrived at the end of the song.

_Skin head, dead head,_

_Everybody gone bad._

_Situation, segregation,_

_Everybody allegation._

_In the suite, on the news,_

_Everybody dog food._

_Kick me, strike me,_

_Don't you wrong or right me._

_All I want to say is that,_

_They don't really care about us._

_All I want to say is that,_

_They don't really care about us._

There was something about this song that really spoke to her, and she knew exactly what it was. She was about to be stuck in a place full of people exactly like that psycho-whateveryouwannacallhim. They wouldn't give a damn about anything more than getting paid.

_All I want to say is that,_

_They don't really care about us._

_All I want to say is that,_

_They don't really care about us._

The car rumbled to a stop. Just as Michael Jackson screamed, indicating the end of the song, her father turned to face her. Jeb Batchelder looked amazing well for a man in his early forties, without a single gray hair and not looking a day over thirty - physically, anyway. His sharp look and thick glasses gave him the gravity of an old wise man.

He watched her for a long moment, his eyes scanning her as if trying to memorize every detail, from her ordinary, brown eyes to her blondish-brown hair. It wasn't exactly as if he'd seen much of her in the past two years, but it also wasn't as if he had seemed to care that much. Max stared back levelly, not willing to let a single emotion out.

Jeb watched her for a few moments longer, then closed his eyes and sighed.

"We're here," he announced as he turned back around and turned the car off.


	2. The School

**A/N: So people actually like chapter one! That makes me happy. Whenever I start a story, I'm always nervous over whether or not people will like it. Although that worry never really goes away. I've hit a dry spot in my other MR FanFiction, **_**U and A,**_** and I'm terrified because I can't seem to get out of it. I'm calm right now, though, because I'm listening to my favorite song of all time, **_**Hallelujah.**_** Even though Rufus Wainright's version is my personal favorite, you just have to respect Leonard Cohen for coming out with such an amazing song. Anyway, remember, criticism and reviews are always welcome!**

Now, Max had seen maybe one or two mental institutions in her lifetime, but never one quite like this. It loomed over her and her father, blocking the sun and drowning them in shadows.

Max had seen pictures of Itex in the brochures that her mother had gone through with her, but it was…different. In those pictures, the main entrance hadn't looked like such a snarling, hungry mouth. The windows hadn't glared at her with spite and disgust like they did now. Sure, there were the same sterile, white walls; the same bushes and flowers that attempted to bring a cheerful and tranquil atmosphere; the same five stories of concrete…but…but…

In person, it was so much different. In the picture, Itex looked like a nursing home or something - not inviting, but not frightening. Now, though, Max could see the things that the pictures hadn't bothered to show. She had expected the windows to be tinted, but so many of them were laced with bars. The "garden" set to the side was wild and in desperate need of grooming, and there was no hope for the pleasant walks that the brochure had promised.

Then, there was the feeling. It wasn't necessarily death…but, in the air, there was a lack of life. No birds chirping, no cicadas burring, not even any cars honking…just the wind howling at their backs, throwing their hair in their faces.

And… Max didn't know why, but a sudden feeling of imprisonment swept over her.

In the brochure, the Itex Mental Institution for Minors looked like a premature nursing home.

In real life, it looked like a juvenile prison.

Suddenly, her father's hand was on her back. Max almost jumped out of her skin, immediately pulling away. Jeb, who was carrying one of her duffel bags in his other hand, didn't seem to be surprised by her reaction. Undeterred, he stared at her again with those analytical eyes. Max had an awful feeling that he now saw her as more of a patient than a daughter, but she quickly quelled the sickness in her stomach. _That's ridiculous. Dad's an asshole, but he's not a monster._

"Come on," Jeb said, gesturing towards the main entrance. He began to walk towards it. After a moment, Max followed. He reached the double doors, and they slid open for him. He stood patiently, waiting for Max to catch up. When she had, they walked through a second pair of double doors and into the building.

The second Max walked in, a strong anti-septic stench swept over her so powerfully that she almost gagged. She stumbled, a hand rushed to her nose as a sudden headache threatened to overwhelm her. She had been in hospitals before, so she expected the cleanly smell of disinfectants, soap, and hand sanitizer, but this was just ridiculous.

Jeb wasn't fazed by the onslaught of "cleanliness." While Max's nose burned and her eyes began to tear up, he continued walking without skipping a step. After a moment, Max rushed to catch up with him.

Max had to resist to urge to reach out and grab her father's hand. She felt like a small, helpless child. She hated that feeling of vulnerability. Before the Voice had come along, she had always been the tough, charismatic one, the one that made people want to follow her without having to try that hard. Even back in her kindergarten days, she had led her side in the war of boys vs. girls.

Max was barely able to see through her fear enough to notice a woman and a doctor walking towards them. Once she did, though, the woman captured her attention in a vice-like manner.

The woman looked like she was in her early thirties. She was hunched over and hugging herself, shaking badly. She kept glancing back and forth like a trapped, frightening animal. From beneath her wild, shaggy black hair, her dark eyes seemed wild, red, and underlined by dark rings. Maybe that would be because of how badly she was crying…but Max had a feeling that certain illegal drugs had something to do with her condition.

She was too old to be a patient, so what was she doing here?

Max must have been staring, because suddenly the woman's almost-black eyes cut towards her, turning vicious. Startled, Max immediately looked away, fumbling nervously with her duffel bag just to be doing something. She was hoping that she could get away without further incident, but the woman screamed after her, "What're you staring at? You look like you're getting admitted here…_I'm_ not the crazy one!"

Max kept walking, head low, face burning with shame. Surprisingly, Jeb wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. As they continued walking, Max heard the doctor standing beside the woman say soothingly, "Calm down, Ms. Ride. I understand how upset you must be, but we'll make sure your son gets better soon."

Max wondered why her son had been admitted. She wouldn't have been surprised if he had gone crazy, living with a class-A citizen like that woman.

"Here we are," Jeb announced, bringing her out of her thoughts as he opened a door. Inside was a relatively small room, lined with slightly-cushioned chairs. It looked like a waiting room.

The fourteen-year-old girl entered tentatively, glancing around. There was a tall, broad-shouldered man in the corner - a security guard, by her guess. A black smudge caught her attention, and she looked at the person sitting in the chair closest to the door. For a moment, she thought she was seeing the woman again. When those two dark, knowing eyes met hers, though, she realized that the person must have been her son.

Max dropped her gaze to the floor as she slowly walked over to the seat furthest from the boy. Her father followed her, then set the duffel bag he was carrying in the chair beside her. "A nurse should be with you in a moment. You're already completely registered, and your room is ready and waiting," Jeb said, then turned and began to leave.

Without thinking, Max blurted out, "You mean you're not going to stay with me?"

Jeb stopped and smiled at her. "I'm sorry, honey, but I have other things to attend to here." Without another word, he left the room, leaving Max, the guard, and Man in Black alone in the room. It wasn't long before Max felt a pair of eyes watching her. She looked up, not surprised that it was Man in Black watching her so intensely. When their eyes met, he didn't even have the decency to look away.

For a moment, her fear switched to anger. "Didn't your mother ever tell you that it's rude to stare?" she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and turning away. After a moment, the meaning of her words hit her. She had seen the boy's mother…and she hadn't seemed the type to teach him anything more than how to hate himself.

After a moment, Max swallowed her pride. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered quietly, her hands falling to her lap.

Man in Black didn't say anything. He wasn't looking at her anymore. Guiltily and quite knowingly hypocritically, she stole glances at him through the corner of her eye. He was the spitting image of his mother, except he seemed to be much taller, though it was hard to tell with him in a sitting position. His skin was olive like hers, his eyes and hair black. He had her high cheekbones and pointed chin.

He couldn't have been much older than Max. And, she suddenly realized, he couldn't have been much less than half his mother's age.

Swallowing thickly, Max began to play with her hair. She began to braid it, but her hair was too curly, so she ended up getting frustrated and running her fingers through it to clear her attempts. She watched the clock like she had back at her high school, only now she was praying for the nurse to come.

At exactly 11:03 and forty-two seconds, she did. The woman poked her head in the room, clutching a clipboard. "Maximum Batchelder?" she called.

Hurriedly, Max jumped to her feet, scrambling to grab her duffel bags. She practically raced out of the room after the woman. She could have sworn she felt Man in Black's eyes watch her leave the room.

"Your room is on level three," the nurse informed her, grinning. They turned a corner and approached the elevator. Not five minutes later, the nurse was opening a door leading to a small, slightly furnished room. Max entered, but stopped in the middle of the bedroom. Immediately, her eyes flicked to the window. She wanted to cry with relief when she saw that it wasn't barred.

After a moment, Max turned to face the nurse. The woman smiled just a little too jovially. Max hoped that not all of them were like her. "The Itex Mental Institution for Minors is a wonderful place to grow and begin to appreciate the joys of the world! Every Monday is board game day, every Thursday is video game day, and every Friday is movie night! You'll have such a great time here!" She made it sound like a summer camp rather than a prison-for-kids-that-refused-to-admit-it-was-a-prison. Max hoped her enthusiasm wasn't contagious. Wearing a grin that big for so long seemed like it should hurt.

"You'll learn so much with us," she promised. She batted her mascara-thickened eyelashes, and Max could swear sparkles were falling from the woman's lab coat. She looked like her smile alone could bring a puppy back to life. It was frightening. "That's why many fondly refer to us as 'The School.'"

She finally turned to leave, and Max had to suppress the sigh of relief. "I hope you enjoy your stay," the nurse called back cheerfully before leaving. Max distinctly heard it lock behind her.

The woman should have been a patient, not a nurse.

Letting out a heavy breath, Max looked around, taking in her new "bedroom." She sighed, shaking her head and throwing her duffel bags to the floor. She collapsed onto the stiff bed wrapped in white sheets, burying her face into her crisp pillow.

_Home, sweet home,_ she thought bitterly.

**I couldn't have said it better,** the Voice replied.


	3. Nothing's Wrong With Me

**A/N: Ha ha! Chapter three. This story is looking hopeful! Just a head's up, though, I may have less time to be updating my stuff…not that I really have been lately. My Mondays are taken up by Brain Game and violin lessons. My Tuesdays have once again become filled with BPA. My Wednesdays and Thursdays are being used by the bowling team. My Saturday mornings are devoted to my orchestra. My weekends are devoted to friends and video games. Also, my pre-calc teacher and chem honors teacher love assigning homework…and I don't understand half the stuff anyway, so I also need to stay after occasionally on Fridays for tutoring. Anyway, remember, criticism and reviews are always welcome!**

Apparently, when the scary-happy nurse had rambled off the list of activities, she had forgotten one key thing. Every day at noon, she would be forced to meet with a therapist. Not only had Max grown a fervent hatred for therapists and doctors, but they would be _group_ meetings. Meaning she'd be spilling her guts in front of four or five other kids.

As she entered the "relaxation" room, she saw seven chairs arranged in a circle. Six were already occupied, meaning she was the last to arrive.

A woman, probably in her late twenties or early thirties, was sitting near a chalkboard. Immediately, Max was thrown off by the look of the woman. She sat with her back straight, her legs crossed, and her hands folded neatly on top of a clipboard in her lap. Her honey-brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and no straggles hung loose, almost as if they were too afraid to. When Max's escort closed the door, the woman's deep, forest green eyes cut towards Max.

"You must be Maximum," she said in a tone that indicated she didn't need confirmation. She lifted her clipboard, pulled down the pen that was tucked behind her ear, and began to scribble who-knows-what. "I am Doctor Williams. Please, have a seat."

She stopped writing for a second to jab her pen in the direction of the only empty chair. Tentatively, Max walked forward and took it. She glanced at the other kids around her. Sitting to her left was a black girl, obviously a few years younger, with wild corkscrew curls and wide, gullible, mocha eyes. To Max's left was a boy around her age with shaggy, strawberry-blonde hair. His eyes were closed.

To the boy's other side were two young children, a boy and a girl, looking too alike to be anything but brother and sister. They both looked like little angels, with their ruffled, bleach blonde hair and bright blue eyes. It broke Max's heart to see two little kids, neither of whom could even have been ten years old, in a place like this.

The last person wasn't someone Max had been expecting to see.

Man in Black.

He met her shocked gaze with a cool, unreadable one of his own. His eyes were piercing hers, feeling as if they were burning holes through her skull. Max unconsciously let her jaw drop and found herself speechless. Thankfully, she didn't have to talk yet; Dr. Williams had that all under control.

"Alright. As I'm sure you can see, we have two new members with us today," she said, settling her clipboard back down into her lap and replacing the pen behind her ear. She looked around at the children. "Because the point of these meetings is to bring us together with our peers and make new friends, why don't we go around the circle? We'll each say our first name, our age, and one thing about ourselves." This speech sounded rehearsed, without any feeling whatsoever. "I'll go first. My name is Dr. Williams, I'm thirty, and I love to help people." Oh, yeah, that was for sure. "Angel, your turn."

The little blonde girl looked at Man in Black, then at Max. "My name is Angel, I'm six, and I love teddy bears," she said timidly. Max's heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice.

"I'm Gazzy," her brother piped up, a reckless grin poking dimples in his cheeks. "I'm eight, and I love to blow things up!"

O…kay…?

Dr. Williams must have had the same thought, with the look she gave Gazzy over the top of her glasses. Gazzy just shrugged and kept grinning.

"Icarus," the redhead next to Max muttered, his eyes still closed. The letters slurred, and his lips barely moved. Max wondered whether that was because of his mental issue, or if he was extremely tired. "Or Iggy. Whatever. Fourteen. Blind."

Max stared at Icarus for a moment, wide-eyed. He was blind? She felt horrible for him. What had happened? Why was he at The School? What - oh shit they were all watching her. It took Max a moment to remember that it was her turn in the round robin, and she had already waited a while to reply.

"My name's Max," she said, trying to smother her embarrassment. "I'm fourteen, and I…" What was something about her? Max thought, and said the first thing that jumped to mind. "…like chocolate chip cookies?"

The answer must have been acceptable, because the round robin kept going. "I'm Monique, but most people call me Nudge," the girl next to me said, her mouth moving at a mile a minute. I had to focus to keep up. "That's because I thrash in my sleep all the time, and I can't help it. I used to share a bed with my sister, and she's the one who started calling me Nudge. At first it was a joke, but then-" Dr. Williams glared at her. "Oh, right, back on track. I'm eleven years old. I'll be twelve in January, and I can't wait to turn twelve. I like reversing the numbers in my age, so it'll be like being twenty-one prematurely! Eleven is so boring, because either way it's eleven-"

Icarus groaned. "Back on track. I love to talk." As was obvious. "I like to play with my hair, even though most times it won't cooperate. I like to do my make-up, but they don't allow make-up here, so I don't really do that anymore. I like flipping through magazines and filling out the little quizzes in there, just to see what the answers are. My favorite movie is _Steel_-"

Dr. Williams cleared her throat. "Why don't we talk about all that later, Monique? Nicholas, it's your turn."

Man in Black, Nicholas, barely bothered to glance at her. "Nicholas," he said. "Fourteen." The rest of the group (save for Icarus) watched him expectantly, waiting for him to say something about himself. He remained silent.

Dr. Williams raised her eyebrows. "And tell us something about yourself," she urged.

"Already did. Two things. My name and age," Nicholas pointed out, gazing levelly back at her. Dr. Williams's eyebrows immediately fell, and her eyes fixed him in a light glare. Obviously, she didn't appreciate his sarcasm.

Nicholas raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine," he said. "Everybody calls me Fang, and this is my third time being admitted into Itex."

Third time? Max couldn't stop herself from staring at him. So, his mother was having issues with deciding whether she wanted him home or locked up in a loony bin. What could he be doing that would make her consider such an option? What was wrong with him?

As if he could read her thoughts, Fang was suddenly looking back at her. His eyes narrowed into a glare, as if to say, _Nothing's wrong with me_.

If only Max could have that firm of a belief in herself.


	4. Masks

**A/N: Aaaaand chapter four. So, this story isn't going too horribly so far. Hopefully, it'll stay that way. By the way, I'm going to introduce a few OC's, and they're probably going to be the ones to begin to show Max the true horrors of Itex. Along with Fang. Definitely Fang. What would a MR story be without Fang? xD Anyway, remember, criticism and reviews are always welcome!**

Max looked into the mirror, trying to blink the sleep from her eyes. She stared at her reflection, trying to see if there were any noticeable changes in her appearance. Her thick hair, trapped between dark blonde and light brown, still fell down around her shoulders, as usual; her skin was still creamy, speckled with the occasional freckle or blemish; her eyes were still golden-brown and still every bit as tired as she seemed every other morning in her life.

She looked like any other fourteen-year-old girl would at six a.m.

The difference was inside her mind.

Sighing, Max turned away from the mirror. She had come in on Saturday morning, and Monday had rolled around. Today would be her first day in Itex High School - which was probably someone's sick idea of a joke, having something as normal as _high school_ in a mental hospital - and Max wasn't sure if she wanted to face the day. She had never been the new kid before. Especially in the kind of school she would be attending.

After a moment, she left the bathroom and plopped down on the stiff bed she was gradually becoming accustomed to. It was actually kind of funny, in a bitter, twisted way. On the first day of school of her freshman year, she had ransacked the closet, trying to find the nicest outfit. When she had finally been satisfied with her faded skinnies and bright yellow baby doll shirt, she had violently assaulted her mousse and hairspray to figure out the best hairstyle. She even added a bit more makeup than the usual eyeliner touch-up. Even though she had woken up two hours before the bus would come, she still almost missed it.

Now, though…it was like everything had been picked out for her. There was nothing she could do other than comb her brownish-blonde/blondish-brown/whatever-the-hell-you-wanted-to-call-it waves. She had no choice other than the patient's hospital gown to wear (though, thankfully, these weren't the kind you had to tie in the back; that would've been…bad). Makeup wasn't allowed.

Her escort - Max didn't know whether it would be a nurse or a guard - knocked on the door, as if Max had any option of opening it for them. It turned out to be a nurse who poked her head in - one with a robotic smile and doe eyes rimmed in mascara-thickened lashes. She took a step into the room, reaching a hand out towards Max. "Ready for your first day of school?" she asked, the excitement in her voice so obviously feigned that she must have thought she was speaking to a three-year-old.

"No," Max grunted, but she stood up and followed the nurse anyway.

* * *

><p>Okay, so the first day of school wasn't nearly as bad as she imagined it would be. She and all the other fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds - or, the ones who were <em>capable,<em> she should say - were all herded into the same room, one identical to the group meeting room. The teacher, a bitter, balding man with a hook nose and a beer belly, didn't even bother with the "we have new students!" routine.

Unsurprisingly, Fang and Icarus were in her class. They were sitting near each other. They weren't really talking, which indicated that they weren't friends, so they must have only wanted to familiarity of someone they knew. Max tentatively joined them, taking the empty seat on Icarus's other side.

The class was, astonishingly enough, like a normal high school class. There were unusual outbursts from some of the students, but they were quickly handled and, overall, not too distracting. There was a break for the usual group meetings - today, Max found out that Icarus and Gazzy were there because they were both class-A pyromaniacs - then lunch, then a history lesson. It was strangely…normal. Or as normal as a class full of mental patients could be.

Two hours after the end of class came dinner. Directly after was, Max had forgotten, board game night.

Now, she was sitting awkwardly in a corner, looking around at the other children. Upon seeing Max, Monique had promptly planted herself on the cold tile beside her and begun talking, but Max wasn't paying attention. She was too busy observing…admittedly, Fang.

Most of the kids were too busy talking, throwing tantrums, or staring off into space to even consider touching the board games. Fang was a part of the last category, though he wasn't doing it in the same drool-dripping-from-his-mouth, nobody's-home manner. He was simply sitting in one of the fold-up chairs with a deep, meditative look on his face.

The guilt that had been building up the past couple of days finally reached its limit. As politely as she could, Max excused herself from Monique and approached Fang. His hawk-like eyes were on her before she was even halfway there, and Max found it increasingly difficult to keep walking. She pushed onward, though, one foot after another, each step dragging like she had weights tied to her ankles.

When she was finally standing him front of him, she licked her parched lips. "Um…," she muttered lamely, staring down at her feet. "I'm, um…sorry, about the other day. In the waiting room. I didn't meant to be so rude."

She wasn't sure what kind of a reaction she was expecting. She didn't know Fang well enough to guess whether he would accept her apology or reject it viciously. As it turned out, he didn't do either. His eyes flicked up and down, analyzing her, searching her for something. Max supposed that she should've known he would only sit there and stare at her.

"Um…," was all she was able to say. She was feeling more and more awkward as each second passed by. She glanced over at Monique, suddenly wishing that she hadn't left the eleven-year-old girl to do this stupid thing. After a moment, she found the courage to make eye contact with Fang. His expression had gone from analytical to thoughtful.

Right when Max thought Fang would finally reply, a hand came out of nowhere, smacking him on the back. Fang jumped to his feet, instantly alarmed, whirling to face his attacker. Standing behind Fang was a young man with black, spiky hair and a dark, threatening expression. Max felt her lungs lock up. Unconsciously, she took a step backward, aware of the first traces of fear beginning to shoot through her, almost like an alarm. _This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill._

Max was a decent fighter, so she usually wasn't frightened in a fight, even the ones where guys were involved. In a mental hospital, though…everyone was there for a reason.

Seconds passed, and neither boy made a move.

Her heart began to beat faster.

Right when Max was certain she was going to scream, the older boy suddenly grinned. It softened his entire face, immediately lighting up his whiskey-hazel eyes. The murderer in his face completely vanished, replaced with a kind, charming man. "Fang, my man!" he laughed, clapping Fang on the shoulder. "Right when I thought you'd finally gotten too smart to get sent back here. What's up? How've you been?"

Max blinked in surprise. What was going on?

"Screwed up as usual," Fang replied easily, surprising her even more.

The young man laughed good-naturedly, shaking his head. "If that ain't the truth," he said. "I'm probably going to be stuck here till I turn eighteen - only seven months away! Even then, they'll probably ship me right off to the official Itex Mental Institution, the big boy school." He kept laughing, as if it was just a joke. As if life was just one big joke to him.

"Till then, I guess we have some catching up to do," the young man continued. His grin widened. His eyes sparkled with life. Max couldn't stop herself from wondering what got a guy as vivacious as him stuck in a place that seemed to suck the life right out of you. "Yeah, you know, us loners gotta stick together," he added. He practically doubled over at his own joke. "Get it?" he cackled. "'Loner'? 'Stick together'? It's an oxymoron!"

Fang smirked, something Max had yet to see. It suited him. "No, _you're_ an oxymoron," he stated, but there was a fondness in his voice that Max hadn't heard yet. He cared about this boy.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." The young man waved away the insult without batting an eye. "Wanna go play some checkers?" he asked, as if the girl he had been speaking with didn't even exist.

Fang shook his head. "We've been through this a thousand times, Caleb. I'm not a checkers guy. I like chess more. Go find a chess board, and I'll play you."

Caleb snorted, rolling his eyes. "Last time I found a chess board, you told me the exact opposite," he pointed out. Abruptly, he turned away. "Anyway, be seeing you. Any minute now, some goon's gonna come in and drag me out to take my meds. Knowing me, they'll have to sedate me before I'm halfway to the drug library. See you on Thursday, if they're not mean enough to punish me and take video game night away from me."

He walked off as if he had just exchanged the usual, mundane, _'How's the weather?'_ kind of chit-chat with someone. Max guessed that that was Itex's version of it.

Once the young man was safely out of earshot, Fang turned back around to face Max. "Who's he?" she couldn't stop herself from asking.

Fang was silent for a moment, as if debating on whether or not to tell her. Finally, he replied, "Caleb. Been here three years." He looked over his shoulder, as if searching for Caleb. There was no sign of him. Maybe he had already been taken to get his meds.

Max tilted her head to the sight slightly as Fang looked at her again. She didn't return eye contact; instead, she kept her eyes focused on the last place she had seen Caleb. She couldn't get his face out of her mind - or, rather, his faces. There was the one she had seen when he had first approached them, so full of calm hatred, brimming with malevolent intent, and with aggression lurking just beneath the surface. Then, when he had smiled, he had changed completely. He had seemed like any popular guy at Max's old school, maybe even a little sweeter. And he seemed to be so lighthearted and carefree, so effervescent. It was like he was wearing a mask that he sometimes cared to take off.

But which one was the mask?

It was as if Fang was reading her mind. "He's a good guy. Pretty inconsiderate, and he'll ignore your entire existence till you prove to him you're worth his attention, but he's a good guy." A speech, coming from him. Max nodded mutely, still staring at that spot as if it would make Caleb magically reappear. What had ended him up at Itex?

So many people in Itex seemed so normal, but Max knew that that couldn't possibly be right. Itex wasn't like the lower-level classes at school, where a lot of the kids didn't belong. Itex was an asylum for minors. Everyone there had earned it, in one way or another. **Like you,** the Voice whispered unhelpfully.

Max bit her bottom lip, just as a hand came down on her shoulder. Though it was gentle, she still jumped in surprise, whirling to face the hand's owner. There stood the grinning, happy-go-lucky nurse, who Max, still trapped in her Pokemon days, had decided to call Nurse Joy.

"It's time for your meds, Maximum!" she chirped.

Max blinked. _Meds?_


	5. Survival of the Fittest

**A/N: Okay, I now have more time to work on this story in particular! I'm sorry this story has been on hold for so long, but I am finally finished with **_**U and A,**_** and now it is my only in-progress story! YAAAAY! Anywho, right now I am listening to Romeo and Juliet while I type, and I'm feeling like a nerd, 'cause I'm quoting it. I don't even like the idea of Romeo and Juliet, haha, and yet I know certain scenes so well…dang you, English teacher! Haha, anyway, remember, criticism and reviews are always welcome!**

* * *

><p>Max was confident that Nurse Joy was saying something to her. Though her ears clearly heard the words, her mind wasn't able to process them. It was like she was trapped in a fog. It was as if she was blind and deaf…though her eyes and her ears were working perfectly well. It was something in her mind that was off, something besides the Voice. It was the medication they had given her.<p>

When Nurse Joy had returned Max to the Recreational Room, she had been fine. She hadn't felt any different, even with her suspicions of what Joy insisted were "vitamins to help you get back into tip-top shape!" She was about to dismiss her wariness over the pills completely when Nudge had approached her.

The girl had said something. Max watched her mouth move and could hear the voice…but the words literally seemed to go in one ear and out the other. "I-I'm sorry," Max had stammered, feeling her face move with confusion. Even her own voice sounded like it was coming to her through several layers of cotton. "Can you say that again?" Nudge had repeated her, and Max had tried to read her lips…but then she had gotten dizzy. Really dizzy. She thought she saw Fang beginning to approach her, but she couldn't be certain.

Max squeezed her eyes shut and massaged her temples. She hadn't even been aware that she had lost her balance until she was yanked to a stop by two strong arms. She opened her eyes, but she wasn't able to properly understand that Fang had caught her. She looked around in a daze, confused and bordering terror.

Nurse Joy and one of the security guards, which the patients kindly referred to as escorts, rushed over. A few words were spoken, and Max was barely able to catch that she was being taken back to her room. The escort took her by her shoulders and helped her stay on her feet as he and Nurse Joy lead her out of the recreation room. For just a second, Max had been able to see one final, clear image: Fang watching after her with something akin to concern in his eyes.

Now, she was being led onto the elevator. The instant it began to move, Max lost her balance. The escort's strong, sturdy arms wrapped around her to keep her on her feet. She didn't know how much longer it was - it could've been seconds, or it could've been hours, or it could've been a flitting eternity - but at some time Max's mind realized that she was being laid down onto her bed.

Max hated this feeling. She would prefer the Voice's scornful, cryptic remarks over this…emptiness. The lights were on, but the Voice wasn't home…and neither was Max. She felt like a helpless ghost trapped inside her own head, unable to do anything, unable to communicate. Dead.

She could have sworn that Joy said something to the escort about a negative reaction.

Again, Max had no idea when, but Joy and the escort left the room, completely abandoning her when she had never wanted comfort more.

* * *

><p>Throughout the night, Max's terror slowly died away. She stopped caring about anything, though she knew that that should have scared her more than anything else. She didn't know when, but, eventually, she fell into a blank, dreamless asleep.<p>

* * *

><p>It was as if the entire school day so far, Max had been trying to wake up from a deep, intoxicating slumber. She hadn't learned a single thing yet, other than that time passed incredibly slowly when you're trying to break out of the fog. She hadn't eaten a single thing that day, nor did she plan to. It might worry the nurses, but now that the worst of the bleariness had drifted away, an incredible nausea had replaced it. She didn't think she'd be able to keep anything down.<p>

Now, she was sitting in her usual spot in the group therapy circle. Dr. Williams had yet to begin the meeting, but Max wasn't exactly paying attention. She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes, willing the throbbing in her head to go away.

Williams was speaking now, Max was sure of it. She couldn't follow what was being said, though. It was like trying to listen to someone speak while you had your head underwater. You could hear their voice, but there were no coherent words, nothing intelligible. It was only a noise, and nothing more.

Suddenly, Max heard something that sounded like her name. She looked up and saw that everyone was looking at her. She licked her lips and struggled to form coherent words. "W…whuh…wha…?" was the best she was able to manage.

There was a strange look on Williams's face, one that Max couldn't decipher - at least not in her current condition. Williams said something else, then stood. She placed her clipboard on her chair and then walked over to a neatly organized desk. Max watched as Williams picked up the phone, then let her gaze return to her lap.

A hand fell on Max's shoulder. For some reason, this bothered Max. She had never been a touchy-feely person, but there was something different about how she felt now. She didn't want to be touched at all. Not by anyone, not for any reason. She leaned away from the hand and was glad when its owner decided to pull the hand away.

Monique said something. The voices were becoming a little clearer now, but Max still wasn't sure what Monique said.

Williams returned to the group. It was obvious that she was ready to move on, though she gave Max a quick glance. Max caught it, and saw what she thought might have been a deep concern.

Near the end of the meeting, Max was finally able to follow the conversation. She still didn't have the strength to participate.

* * *

><p>Only fifteen minutes before the end of the school day, Max was pulled out of class by someone she hadn't seen ever since she had been left in the waiting room on her first day there. She had been wanting to see her father so much these past couple of days. Now, though, she didn't care. Though she might have liked to blame that on the drugs, she was much more clear-headed now. She wondered why she didn't feel a spark of joy when Jeb had called her out into the hall…and why there almost seemed to be a hint of bitterness.<p>

"Max, honey, I just wanted you to know that we've switched your medication. These new ones shouldn't have the same side effects as the ones you took last night." He suddenly reached out, placing a hand on her forehead. Caught off guard, Max tried to pull away from the touch. She wasn't exactly coming to appreciate physical contact of any kind, it seemed. Jeb held her in place with his other hand, though.

"It seems you also have a slight fever," he stated. "I'll ask the nurse to add some different vitamins to your medication to help that."

Yeah, like Max was even planning on taking her usual pills.

* * *

><p>Later that day, Max found herself in the recreation center again. Max asked the nurse escorting her - thankfully not Nurse Joy - why, seeing as it wasn't board game day or anything special like that. The nurse calmly explained that the patients visited the recreation room every day, but only on special days did they have games and movies.<p>

Max looked around and found an empty table. She walked over to it and took a seat in one of the hard, uncomfortable chairs. She rested her head on the table, closing her eyes against the harsh light. She didn't even realize she had been falling asleep until she was startled back into alertness by the sound of the chair across from her getting pulled away from the table. She barely opened her eyes to look at her visitor - Fang.

"How you feeling?" he asked.

"Like shit."

"Of course you do," Fang replied, nodding slightly. Max closed her eyes again. "Medication sucks here."

_Tell me about it,_ Max thought bitterly, but she didn't reply. Though she was growing to like Fang, she didn't want to encourage any kind of conversation. Fang didn't seem to have anything against the silence, letting it hang in the air between them. Max was thankful that he didn't try to push a conversation on her, as Monique always seemed to do. Then again, he didn't seem like he liked talking with other people. He seemed more comfortable in the silence, like it was his closest friend.

After a moment, Max took the chance and opened her eyes. With her head still on the table, she looked around the room. For a moment, she couldn't find the person she was looking for. She was worried that he might be behind her - Lord knew she didn't have the strength to lift her head and turn it around. Soon, though, she saw him.

He was sitting in a lonely wooden chair that was against the wall. His legs were spread, and his hands were resting on the chair between them. His head was hung. His hair hid his face from view, and for a moment Max wasn't sure if she was looking at the right guy. He looked so…dead. Much unlike the way she'd seen him only the day before.

But it was him. That was Caleb.

His medication couldn't have been a mistake like Max's had been. He had been at the hospital since Fang's first visit, and it didn't take doctors three years to figure out the right combination for a patient. That meant that they were purposely doing this to him. Max couldn't help but remember how vivacious he had seemed yesterday. How could they do this to him?

_Because he must be aggressive,_ her mind rationalized. _There's nothing wrong with being enthusiastic, but being overzealous is another matter. It's better this way._

She couldn't bring herself to believe it.

She felt a brief pang of despair. She was planning on not taking her pills tonight. If Caleb had been here three years and hadn't figured out how to avoid it yet, how could she hope to do it after just a couple days? As if reading her mind, Fang said, "His meds are injected. Once a week." The shortness with which he said it denied the welcoming of a reply.

It repaired her hope, though. That meant that she might just be able to avoid her meds, seeing as she was administered pills.

She was certain that she and Caleb weren't the only ones given meds. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if everybody in the institution was given at least a couple vitamins. Surely not all of them took the meds, judging by how alert most of them were. Maybe one of them could give her some pointers.

Suddenly, Max remembered: this was Fang's third time at Itex. He was a smart guy. He had to already have the system figured out.

Max looked up at him through squinted eyes. "Hey, Fang-"

"No." He interrupted her before she could get any further.

Startled, she tried again, "But-"

"No," he repeated firmly, holding her gaze unwaveringly. "If you're about to ask me about the meds, _no."_

Honestly, Max didn't care. She wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, but she knew that she could figure something out on her own. Still, even in her half-conscious state, she couldn't help but feel a little offended. _"Why?"_ she asked as sharply as she could. It didn't come out nearly as sassily as she would've liked, but enough to get her point across.

Fang seemed surprised. These past few days, she had been acting so vulnerable and frightened, like a child. In reality, she had felt like that. Now that she was getting used to this new life, though, her personality was returning to normal. Of course, he hadn't known what her normal was.

The break in his usual, blank expression didn't last more than a few seconds. "Snitching equals brownie points," he replied, brushing his black, side-swept bangs from his face. His eyes had taken up a slight glare, but Max could see that it was only defensive. He must have learned that bit of wisdom through experience. Had someone sold him out before?

Max felt disgusted. "Like a prison," she muttered. Losing the strength to hold her eyes open, she let them slide shut.

"Exactly," Fang replied. "Can't trust anyone." Not even her.

Though Max still felt slightly offended, she couldn't blame him for keeping his secrets. In places like these, it was survival of the fittest, after all.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, it was Nurse Joy who had come to take her to the drug library, as Caleb had called it, to take her meds. Did whoever was in charge know that Max disliked the woman and used this form of torture to break her? If so, it was working pretty damn well.<p>

By now, thankfully, Max had regained most of her lucidity. She knew that she could walk perfectly on her own, but every now and then she would fake a stumble, causing Joy to cry out in false concern and catch her. If Max wanted an excuse to keep her mouth shut and avoid talking to this woman, she would have to feign the sickness she'd been feeling all day. This was no hard task, with the frustration of her former discombobulation so fresh in her mind.

The drug library wasn't truly a library. It was more like the pharmacy counter at the local store. There was an ever-patient male nurse distributing little white cups to the patient at the counter after asking his or her escort the name. It was all simple, and the line actually moved quickly if no one fought against the drugs. One had the day before and had ended up getting sedated and dragged off to who-knew-where.

Thankfully, no one resisted today. Though Max and Joy were behind six or seven people, they were up at the counter in about two minutes. "Maximum Batchelder," Joy told the man on the other side of the counter.

He wasn't the same nurse as the day before, but he had the exact same reaction to the name. "Come again?" he asked, wondering if he had misheard her. Max had to admit: she didn't exactly have a conventional, run-of-the-mill name.

"Maximum Batchelder," Joy repeated a bit slower, taking time to annunciate. "I love her name. It's so original! And inspiring. It makes me want to live my life to the _max!"_ She giggled. It was an extremely irritating sound, and suddenly Max found herself daydreaming about killing this woman. She turned towards Max, her blue eyes bright with insane enthusiasm. "Don't you just _love_ your name, Maximum?"

Max grunted, and not just to keep up with the act. Earnestly, she didn't feel like humoring this woman with an intelligent reply of any sort.

The male nurse held out a small white cup of pills. Max examined them carefully. Yesterday, she'd taken two dark blue gel capsules. Now, she was looking down at three small, circular, red pills along with two large yellow ones with a bright red stripe running down the middle. The latter would had to have been the vitamins that her father had promised her earlier.

Without hesitation, Max dumped the pills into her mouth. She gave the white cup back to the man on the other side of the counter, who disposed of it. Nurse Joy checked her watch. "Well, it looks like you have another twenty minutes in the recreation room." She helped Max back to the recreation room. It was only about a minute walk, thank God. "I'll be back to take your to your room!" Joy chirped before turning and skipping away.

Max immediately reclaimed her seat across from Fang. She laid her head down on the table again, closing her eyes.

The next twenty minutes were painstakingly long. She and Fang only sat there in silence. This was the one time that Max truly needed something to get her mind off what was going on, but she couldn't talk. Not while safely concealing the five pills under her tongue, that was.

It seemed like an eternity before escorts finally began to arrive to take the patients back to their rooms. Max nearly jumped out of her seat when Nurse Joy called her name before quickly reminding herself to look sick. She pushed herself up. For the first time, she looked up at Fang.

He was smirking at her.

"You didn't swallow those pills, did you?" he asked.

Max felt her face go red. Perhaps a little too quickly, she turned away. Nurse Joy walked over to her to safely escort her out of the room, just in case Max was to "lose" her balance again.

It seemed like an eternity before Max was back in her room. When she was, she lied down on her bed, waiting for Nurse Joy to go away. Unfortunately, the woman only came further into the room. She skipped up to the window, placed her hands on the sill, and looked up at the sky. "What a beautiful day," she sang. "Not a cloud in the sky, you know. Days like these make me wish I could fly. Wouldn't that be wonderful, to have wings like a bird? I'd fly all day if I could."

She sighed contently, closing her eyes as if envisioning it. Max got a mental image of Joy as a Pidgeotto. She could barely keep a straight face. Oh, what the years of Pokemon addiction had done to her.

Joy turned around to face Max, her hands still on the sill. She leaned back casually, still grinning. "Do you ever wish you could fly, Maximum?" she asked.

Max didn't reply. She wouldn't even make eye contact. Joy sighed deeply, slowly walking forward. She sank down on the end of Max's bed, frustrating the teenage girl. Why wouldn't this woman just _go away?_

"You know, Maximum, I want to be your friend," she said softly, placing a gentle hand on Max's leg. Max had to resist groaning and rolling her eyes. Did this woman know every cliché in the book or what? "I know that you're scared right now, honey." Her voice had changed from the exuberant style Max was used to. Now, it was more sympathetic, almost _empathetic._ Max wasn't surprised to hear it. "This is a big change from the life you're used to, isn't it? And for whatever reason you're here…that scares you too, doesn't it? I saw that the first time I saw you." She patted her leg tenderly. "But it gets better, I promise."

She jumped up, suddenly chipper all over again. Max swore this woman belonged in the institution. She seemed bipolar…almost like she had multiple personality disorder. It was extremely worrisome.

"Just let us teach you," she sang, leaning over so that she was nearly nose-to-nose with Max. Max couldn't help but notice that this would be the perfect opportunity to lash out at her. She might even be able to kill her before she could scream to help. It didn't seem like a bad idea. "Just let us teach you," she repeatedly happily. Then, finally, she turned and skipped out of the room.

Max stayed on her bed for a full minute, waiting to see if Nurse Joy would return. When she was confident that the nurse was gone for good, Max rushed into the bathroom, turned on the sink, and spat out the pills.

She would rather live with the Voice than _ever_ feel that vulnerable again.


End file.
